Second Thoughts?
by Scifiroots
Summary: Greg's college days, where one Gilbert Grissom happens to be a guest speaker for a class... GilGreg. AU


_Second Thoughts?_

Clarity Scifiroots  
Disclaimers apply.  
Pairing: Gil/Greg  
Summary: As part of the **AU**abc challenge on livejournal, we take a visit to college days where one Gilbert Grissom happens to be a guest speaker for one of Greg's classes.

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"Yo, Greggo! Wake up, man, we gotta get to class!" With that, Greg's sheets and comforter that had been holding in the heat were yanked away.

"No..." Greg groaned, burying his face in the pillow.

"Hey, no skin off my back if you're dropped from the class because you're always late."

Greg lifted his head and looked around blearily. "Fuck, is today Thursday?"

"Yeah, now come on. We start a lab today!"

Scrambling out of bed, Greg muttered incoherent apologies. His roommate rolled his eyes and walked out. Greg stood in the middle of his shared, messy room. The mess was all his, Nick tended to sleep over at his girlfriend's more often than not. That meant he had the room to himself most of the time—nice, especially considering he was only a sophomore and that usually meant being stuck in the cold, salmon-painted, cramped dorms on the edge of campus.

If only he could find clean clothes... there! In the corner he spotted a pitiful pile of "clean" laundry tossed haphazardly over textbooks from last semester.

"Shit, I need to sell those."

Greg hurried into the bathroom, regretting that he didn't have time for a shower. He did his best, considering his time limit, to fix his bleached hair in a familiar "Greg-do." He brushed his teeth quickly and then ran out into the small common room. Warrick and Nick were both waiting. Nick waved a granola bar in the air as Warrick tossed Greg his book bag.

"Thanks, guys." Greg snatched the granola bar from Nick and bit into it immediately.

"See you later, Jim!" Nick yelled before they left.

Warrick locked the small apartment's door and they headed off. "You're getting better, Greggo," he commented. "Used to be it would take a small miracle to get you up and ready in under an hour."

Making a face, Greg responded, "I can't fuck this up—I need this class. I want this class!"

Nick punched his shoulder lightly. "You got in just fine and you're shaping up your act. You shouldn't have any problem keeping up."

"Don't give him a big head, Nicky," Warrick warned. "He's got enough of an ego boost being the youngest in the class."

"I'm not that full of myself!" Greg protested. "And I just figured out what I wanted to do faster than you guys."

Warrick and Nick were both seniors, although this fourth year would not be their last since both had decided only the year before to major in criminal investigation. Greg would be majoring in forensic science, with a focus on DNA analysis. Nick's girlfriend, Sara, would actually finish before him. Like Greg, she had gone into college with an idea of what she wanted to do. She was currently in her junior year and taking all honors courses along with the required classes for her forensic major.

"We might actually get there early today, surprise, surprise," Nick remarked with a glance at his watch.

"Don't jinx us, buddy," Warrick said.

The approach of spring break made everyone restless. Even though Greg loved his forensic investigations seminar, he found it hard to focus on the professor's voice. He had some hope for the day's class since a guest speaker had been slotted to speak for two and a half hours on current forensic methods used in criminal investigation in the state of Nevada. He wouldn't find that boring, right? As long as the speaker wasn't a dried-up, cynical-about-his-job sonofabitch, Greg decided.

"Hey, Greg!" Sara greeted, waving him over to a seat in the third row.

He joined her, asking, "Why are you here? Don't you have a class now?"

Sara waved her hand dismissively; she looked about to burst with excitement. "I talked to my professor—I just had to be here for your speaker! He came to my class last year and he's..." She widened her eyes and made some hand motions that Greg guessed he was supposed to interpret.

"Yeah? Who is he?"

"Dr. Gilbert Grissom," she said, eyes alight with anticipation. "He currently woks at the LVPD. He used to be in California somewhere and was a coroner. He has a doctorate in etymology and has produced a lot of work that's advanced the field in using insects to determine time of death—"

The rest of what Sara said went in one ear and out the other—he saw his professor enter the lecture hall with the speaker. As they came farther into the room, Greg felt his world narrow to focus in on a disturbingly familiar Dr. Grissom.

Oooookay. The guy had said his name was Gil, hadn't he? Shit. They'd never exchanged full names, that hadn't exactly been important at the moment. The only really important thing at the time had been to get into one another's pants. Not that there hadn't been any conversation—because there had been, and Greg was intrigued enough to leave the guy his phone number and chance asking for a "real" date including conversation and dinner, or something. He'd been really hopeful about it, too, since Gil had looked interested and kissed him goodbye— But that was three months ago and there had definitely been no follow-up.

"Hey, guys." Warrick jostled Greg out of his daze as he sat down. "Taking in the sight of Nicky's rival?"

On the other side of Sarah, Nick protested, "Hey! Whose side are you on?"

Greg gave a weak smile. "Well, she was just going on-and-on about him." Nick mumbled something along the lines of "tell me about it."

Warrick nudged Greg with an elbow and leaned in. Quietly he asked, "What's wrong?"

"Ah... nothing really," Greg said, deciding on partial truth. "I just didn't expect to recognize him."

Sara jumped on that. "He has a number of articles published in several forensic journals. You might have seen his picture in one of those. Or you might have caught him on TV during a big case, he usually doesn't speak to the press but he can be seen in the background."

"You're obsessed, Sara," Warrick said calmly. "Give Nicky a break."

Sara frowned and turned to her boyfriend. Warrick and Greg exchanged a look.

"Please get yourselves settled and we'll begin. It is my pleasure to present to you Dr. Gilbert Grissom from the Las Vegas crime scene investigation division."

Oh fuck. Greg realized that Sara had picked their seats for its prime location directly in front of the podium, at just the right height for the speaker to see if he looked straight ahead.

Despite his anxieties of running into a one-night-stand in a most unlikely situation, Greg found himself unable to hold back. He brought attention to himself by asking a series of questions, drawing Grissom into a mini-lecture about the ability to extract human DNA from the blood consumed by certain insects. After the lecture closed, Greg took his time putting away his notebook and pens, only partially aware that Sara was doing the same and that Warrick and Nick had settled back in their seats expectantly. The other students of the class filed out, a handful stopping to talk to the teacher or Grissom.

Finally they were the only ones left as Grissom collected his notes and shut down his computer.

"Dr. Grissom!" Sara called as they stood up.

Heart in his throat, Greg watched as Grissom looked up, his expression suggesting that he hadn't realized they were there. There was a moment of confusion and then a flash of something that looked like wariness crossed his face before his expression closed, politely blank. Greg swallowed painfully, wishing he hadn't stayed.

"Miss Sidle, I believe?"

Sara's smile had to be hurting her cheeks, Greg thought as he hung back.

"Just Sara is fine, Dr. Grissom."

"Nice speech, Doc. I'm Nick Stokes, her boyfriend." Nick offered his hand although the set of his shoulders radiated tension and his eyes were flinty.

Warrick quickly stepped in. "Warrick Brown."

"You can drop the 'doctor' if you like, but please don't resort to 'Doc,'" Grissom said with a mild smile. He shook both men's hands, his eyes flickering to Greg.

"Um, uh... yeah. G-Greg Sanders..." he managed to mumble, sticking out his hand awkwardly, glad that it wasn't shaking.

Was it his imagination, or had Grissom's smile warmed a bit?

"Yes, we've met before, right?"

"Y-yeah..." Greg stuttered, carefully taking back his hand and not sure what to do with it. He stared at the hand dumbly, completely lost.

"You didn't tell me!" Sara accused, her gaze settling on him like a physical weight.

"Well, we never were formally introduced. It was more of a... passing acquaintance."

Greg was glad he wasn't watching as that was said. He grimaced to himself and quickly pulled his hand back against his body, folding himself in to take as little space as possible. He'd love to get out of here if he wasn't afraid of raising suspicions.

It seemed like the world was plotting against him—

"If you have the time, would you mind having lunch with me? I'm interested in hearing more your feedback and would like to hear about the methods you're learning."

Greg stuffed his hands in his pockets, glancing quickly at his friends from the corners of his eyes. Warrick was frowning at him in concern; Sara's attention was on Grissom so Nick's attention was on Sara. God, lunch was the last thing he wanted to do.

"I'd love to," Sara gushed.

"I think I should get to work on a report," Warrick said, shifting slightly so that he stood closer to Greg. "What do you think, Greggo?"

Lifting his head up, Greg chanced a look at Grissom and was stunned to find a look of desperation aimed at him. More confused than he'd been in a long time, Greg decided he shouldn't ditch yet.

"I think it can hold for an hour," he told Warrick.

"If you're sure..."

Greg gave the guy a mental thanks. Warrick was a good friend and incredibly perceptive—that should help him out in his future career.

"I guess," Nick muttered.

"There's a great soup and sandwich place across the street," Sara decided.

"That sounds fine."

Grissom turned back to his stuff and finished putting things away.

"Need some help?" Greg asked, deciding to try a bold front.

Grissom quirked a smile. "Which would you like?" He indicated his laptop bag and briefcase.

In response, Greg grabbed the laptop. "Lead on, fearless leader!" he said to Nick. He could see Warrick shaking his head at the edge of his vision.

An hour later, Nick insisted on walking Sara to her next class. She seemed to finally catch on to his unease and agreed with little protest. Greg was still mulling over a piece of chocolate cake, hoping to get a chance to talk to Grissom alone. Throughout the meal he had been picking up on some rather hopeful signals. Problem would be getting Warrick to take off...

"You have another class today, right Greg?"

Hoping he'd take the hint, Greg answered with a smile, "Just a night class. You know I get back to the room late on Thursdays." He glanced sidelong at Warrick and was relieved that his message seemed to have gotten through.

"Right, I'm mixing up my days. That means I'd better get back to that report, though."

"Okay, see you later."

Warrick stood up. Before he left he gave a quick wink.

"I hadn't thought you might be in a class with Sara."

Greg shrugged, demolishing the remains of his chocolate cake by mashing his fork through the frosting. "Fair enough, I had no idea you'd be showing up in the classroom one day."

"I picked up on that," Grissom said with a slight smile. "I didn't imagine our next meeting would be like this."

Greg dropped his fork and leaned over the table. "Really? What did you imagine? 'Cuz it wouldn't have taken more than a phone—" he sighed, cutting off his bitchy rant. He laughed self-consciously. "Um, sorry. It's just... I had been looking forward to seeing you again. 'Figured that wasn't going to happen by this point."

"You have every right to be angry, and I apologize. I ran into a tough couple of cases, one of which involved a friend's family. As things were calming down, I didn't have any idea what to say if I did call. By the time I finally worked up the nerve to make the damn call, I couldn't find your number."

Shaking his head in wonder, Greg chuckled. "Are you serious? I decided that I'd struck out and found a guy married with kids who went off on the weekends on occasion to get his kicks."

Grissom looked appalled. "I hope you're joking."

Greg grinned. "Nope. But now that things are getting cleared up, you want to tell me how you imagined our next meeting would go?"

Grissom looked at his watch in consideration. "Hmm. I'm not sure I'd have the time now... I need to get some sleep before shift. What time are you done with classes tomorrow?"

Hearing the tone of someone trying too hard to play innocent, Greg decided he'd play along. "By three-thirty. Why? Did you have an idea?"

Grissom met his challenging gaze with a smirk. "You might say that," he agreed. "How about I give you my number so that you can call me when you're ready. We'll head across town for some dinner."

"Breakfast for you, I suppose," Greg said, the tingle of excitement racing along his nerves.

Grissom shifted closer and Greg caught his breath. "Of course, the food will only be a part of the evening's plans... After all, I owe you a _detailed_ explanation of what I imagined, correct?"

Mouth dry, Greg licked his lips. "Yes. That would be... great."

Another smirk and then Grissom was close enough that his breath tickled the surface of Greg's ear. "Tomorrow, then."

Greg's eyes fluttered shut. "Sounds perfect."

Fin


End file.
